The Wilted Ones
by hellohades
Summary: Sequel to The Wounded Ones. Derek is gone. Stiles and Lydia are leaving. Scott is the new Alpha. Has anyone seen Peter? Allison finds out she's pregnant. Oh dear Gods, can it get any worse?
1. Rebirth

**The Wilted Ones  
**_Rebirth_

_"__**It is not for you to judge the journey of another's soul. It is for you to decide who you are, not who another has been, or has failed to be.**__"  
_-_Neale Donald Walsch_

* * *

It's days later, and Stiles is back home. The insurance he took out on the rental car covered the replacement of a new car, but now the rental company is refusing to let him rent from them ever again, even if he is the Sheriff's kid.

Stiles paces his childhood room, waiting for something to happen, anything. He'd reigned in his werewolf sense on the first day, and Scott has given him a sheepish look, saying; "you make a better werewolf than me," and Stiles wasn't ready to take that as a compliment just yet.

He'd talked things over with Scott and apologized for his behavior before the whole Matt incident, and even called Allison up a few hours later to do the same. She laughed at him over the phone, her voice coming in shrill waves. "Oh Stiles," she hummed, "I love you regardless."

And Derek—well, Derek and Cora had skipped town.

The Sherriff watches from the doorway as Stiles packs his clothes into his worn out duffle bag. The man tries to ignore the slight tinge of dark red splashed across the outer fabric; Matt's blood, stained deep into the material. A small nick in the fabric at the corner catches his eye, as if it'd been formed by someone's claws cutting into the bag and it just barely—

Stiles pauses, scenting the air. He glances back at his father in the doorway, a question burning in his eyes. The man nods at the bag, shifting uncomfortably on his feet and crossing his arms over his chest tight. Stiles looks from his father to the bag and it's as if he's noticing the bag for the first time. The scent of rust and dirt fill his nose when he takes a deep whiff, and his stomach roils.

He turns the bag upside down, dumping his clothes onto his bed and grunts as he throws the bag out his open window.

The Sherriff will go pick it up and make sure it makes it into the dumpster later. Or maybe the fire pit. Stiles scrubs his hands over his face and leans back against his computer desk, and his father can see the exhaustion eating away at his child, wearing him down.

"Fucking werewolves." The boy mutters, his face cupped in his hands. He groans as a bird tweets outside his window, and it sounds like its screaming right into his eardrum.

The Sherriff grunts in agreement, shaking his head. "Fucking werewolves," he echoes. He wraps his arms around his son hesitantly and pulls him into his chest. "I don't care what you are. You're still my son."

Stiles scoffs, his hand automatically touching the healed over bite mark Derek left on his wrist. It tingles, like the mark had, and Stiles misses Derek more than even in that moment. He thinks about shooting him a quick text, but remembers the Alpha had ditched his phone in a dumpster before skipping town. Stiles wonders if Derek will ever come back.

The healed up scar at his throat aches as a reminder of the wreck and he wonders if that's the reason Derek left.

His phone vibrates on his bed a few times, then goes silent. Stiles had turned the ringer off after the first time it had screamed at him and nearly caused him to wolf-out and tear his room to pieces. It vibrates again, in rhythm, meaning someone's calling him. He pulls himself away from his father and crosses the small distance to his bed. He glances at the screen, seeing _Isaac _read out on the phone before he answers.

"What's up, bud?" He asks softly, folding his clothes neatly as to occupy his mind for the moment.

Isaac doesn't answer right away, but Stiles can hear him breathing on the phone. He passes the phone to someone else, and for a moment Stiles gets irritated with the silence and thinks about hanging up before a small, desperate voice calls his name.

"_S-Stiles?"_ Scott whimpers, and Stiles pauses.

"Scott? What's wrong?" The Sheriff is at his sons' side in an instant, putting his hand on the back of his sons' neck and rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

Scott clears his throat, and makes a sound that seems angry or desperate, and to be honest, Stiles isn't sure which would be better. "Allison is—" Scott coughs, sniffs, and Stiles get's goose-bumps, "—Allison's pregnant."


	2. Lemonade

**The Wilted Ones  
**_Lemonade_

_**"People don't write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. The great loves are the crazy ones."  
**__-L'amour Fou._

* * *

It's six months before Derek comes back to Beacon Hills, and as soon as he crosses the city limits, Stiles can almost taste him on the air.

Stiles resists the urge to go find him, and turns his attention back to Allison's swollen feet and pouty lips. "I hate this." She complains, unaware, a small smirk at the corner of her lips. She flips through an issue of Cosmo as they wait to be called back into the office by the doctors for the test results.

Stiles throws his head back, stroking his thumb up the arch of her foot as he laughs fondly. "You love it." He rolls her ankle gently, stretches her ligaments and rubbing at the muscles in her calves. She grins, swats him away with her magazine and slips her flip flops back on with a wink and a nod towards the door.

"I wish Scott could have been here." She sighs, then quickly adds, "not that I don't like you being here, Stiles. It's just—"

"You want baby daddy to be here, I get it, I do." He smirks, taking the seat beside Allison and smiling kindly at a plump lady across the lobby from him. She smiles back hesitantly and then quickly turns her attention to the magazine in her hand, trying to hide the blush creeping across the bridge of her nose and cheeks.

Stiles smirks, turning back to Allison. "Don't worry, I'm not offended, but I don't mind coming in his place when he can't, you know." He bumps his shoulder against hers affectionately. She pouts and he laughs. "Really, it's all good, Allie."

Allison bites her lip hesitantly and starts to open her mouth to say something when a nurse opens the door to the doctor's office and her attention turns to the stout woman with the clipboard in her pudgy grip.

"Allison Argent?" The nurse calls from the doorway.

Stiles stands and helps Allison to her feet and leads her down the hall. He puts his arm around her waist and keeps her close to his side, and a few nurses giggle and comment on him being a "strong, protective daddy."

A part of his stomach twists uncomfortably, and he has an urge to tell them he's not the father, but the nurse leads Allison into a room to take her vitals and Stiles can't help but follow.

"You're blood pressures a little high today, Allison. You feeling okay?" The nurse asks accusingly, turning her attention to Stiles.

"Just nervous." Allison answers innocently. The nurse nods, thin lipped, and leads them into another room and has them sit and wait for the doctor.

Allison smells nervous and guilty. Stiles tries to ignore it, but when he finally does get the courage to ask what's bothering her, the doctor walks in. He sits down across from them with a broad smile on his face. Stiles can smell the ease rolling off on him in waves, and he relaxes in his chair. Allison gives off a scent of high anxiety and Stiles eases his hand into her, squeezing lightly. Allison relaxes back into her chair too and rubs her growing stomach affectionately.

"Let's see, Miss Argent," the doctor pulls out his glasses and opens a file in front of him curiously. He clears his throat and smiles, closing the file and patting it softly as he sets in back down on his desk. "It looks like all your tests came back good. We're seeing an increase in white blood cells, so we'd like to run a few more tests, but this sometimes happens with pregnancy, so I wouldn't get too concerned." He hands her a manila folder and smiles wider, "this is confirmation of the sex of your baby. I know you said you wanted to keep it a surprise, but just in case you wanna know beforehand."

Stiles takes the folder before Allison can reach for it and puts it under his arm. Allison gives him a sheepish look. "Thanks," she mutters, "I would've looked."

"I know you would've." He smirks and turns back to the doctor.

"So, what we're gonna do now is take a urine sample and a few blood samples to make sure you don't have any infections we can't see from the surface. Sound good?" The doctors asks, glancing between Allison and Stiles.

Allison nods eagerly. "I really have too pee so this works out great." She smiles wide and her cheeks flush for a moment.

The doctors chuckles and hands her a sealed specimen cup and gets up to show her to the bathroom. When he sits back down in front of Stiles, the doctor smiles at him again, and Stiles shifts in his chair uncomfortably.

"You're going to make a great dad, Mr. Stilinski." He says effortlessly. "I bet your father's proud."

Stiles smiles, his stomach twisting guiltily. "It's not my child." He says, and goes to wait outside the bathroom door for Allison.

* * *

"You really need to start coming to more of these baby appointments bro, everyone in town is starting to think I'm the baby daddy." Stiles stares at Scott accusingly. "Yesterday a lady at the market asked my dad what I was going to name the baby."

Allison makes a face and walks up the stairs to her room with Chris close behind, the manila folder locked in his tight grip. When Allison is no longer in ear-shot, Scott grumbles, "Allison didn't want me to go."

Stiles sputters, "what?!" He nearly roars, "she just _asked_ for you to go before we left! You blew her off and told her you had things to do!" Stiles throws his arms out wide, his eyes burning ember and gold in his anger, "you played video games with Isaac for two hours while we were gone, you didn't have anything to do!" Stiles is breathing hard and he has to turn away from Scott and rein in his wolf. _Protect the Alpha's seed_, his wolf growls, _protect the Alpha's mate._

Scott shrugs his shoulders and walks past Stiles and out the front door, his eyes burning red but not aimed at Stiles in particular, but the beta can smell the shame rolling off him in waves.

Isaac sits on the couch, gnawing holes in his lip. His amber colored eyes flit between their normal royal blue shade and his betas honey colored ones. Stiles gives him a stern, tight-lipped look, asking for answers. Isaac sighs long-sufferingly. "They had a fight, before the appointment today," he explains softly, "Allison wants to break up."

"She's pregnant and hormonal. If I was knocked up with Scott's giant ass werewolf baby, I'd wanna break up with him too." Stiles kicks at nothing, sighs in defeat and rolls his shoulders to try and ease himself back into his normal skin. His wolf growls beneath the surface, freckling his skin with goose-bumps.

Isaac points upstairs. "I'll go talk to her." He offers.

Stiles nods, scrubbing his palms over his face. "Yeah, yeah, I'll go talk to him."

* * *

Scott stands next to him beside the light blue Jeep they both are so fond of. The silence is tense in the beginning, but the longer they stand next to each other and say nothing at all, the easier the tension becomes.

"She hates me." Scott says after a while, staring up at Allison's back in the window.

Stiles snorts and Scott looks at him venomously. He clears his throat and shakes his head. "She doesn't. She's pregnant. If you were gonna have a giant ass baby head coming out of your vagina soon, I'm sure you'd hate you too."

Scott scoffs and shakes his head. "Thanks for going with her, dude. I'm glad you can be there when I can't."

Stiles bumps his shoulder against Scotts and nods. "Anytime."

They're silent for some time again, staring up at Allison as she moves around her room slowly and talks to Isaac in hushed tones. Chris goes back down stairs and starts making a pot of tea, sighs and shakes his head. Stiles wonders what's on his mind.

"By the way," Scott scratches the back of his neck nervously, "Derek's back in town."

Stiles groans. "Yeah, I know." He shakes his head and shoves Scott's shoulder as he climbs into his Jeep. "One problem at a time, Scott, _Jesus_."

* * *

It's another month before Stiles sees Derek in the local market. Stiles is working on breathing through his mouth so he doesn't have to smell all the people and food and make himself sick, and Derek is in the frozen food isle, staring at the hot pockets when Stiles sees him.

He almost gets angry, almost. But then he breathes deeply and realizes that it didn't hurt to see Derek standing there, mere feet away from him. It hadn't hurt to miss him for quite a while now. It didn't even hurt when Derek had come back into town and hadn't come visit him right away. Stiles realizes that, yeah, he may always love Derek, but he's okay if they only ever remain friends.

He smiles, breathes through his nose and realizes Derek doesn't smell like ash and fire anymore. He doesn't smell like regret and anger and rage. He doesn't smell like the burnt down ashes of his family and the house he once called home. Derek smell like damp leaves, and rain, and sun baked rocks and sunshine.

Derek smells content.

Something in Stiles aches, from the pit of his stomach to the tips of his toes. He doesn't want to ruin that scent. He doesn't want to taint it with any sort of despair or burden it with any hint of guilt. Stiles shakes his head and leaves the frozen food isle.

It's time to leave Derek behind, too.

* * *

Allison's stomach grows before their eyes, as if the time is passing in seconds and not months. She's nine months pregnant and about to burst, and her cheeks are huge and red and her boobs have grown exponentially and look fantastic, even in maternity clothes, and she smiles wider and rubs her belly fondly every few seconds.

Scott smiles at her every chance he gets, nervousness rolling off him like a waterfall as he holds up a leg of a baby crib that's upside down and in the wrong hole. Stiles is sipping on lemonade in the cool April breeze when the scent hits him again and nearly causes him to choke. Damp leaves, rain, sun baked rocks, sunshine—it's there, wafting up the hallway to the room he, Scott, Allison, Isaac and Danny are hiding within.

Stiles goes to the window and peeks out, seeing the hideous Toyota. It causes him to breathe in deeply, and his claws scrap against the window sill. His reflection gives way to golden eyes and he blinks, shakes his head, and watches his eyes bleed brown once more.

Scott looks up at him sheepishly, "I-I uh, I called him over to help with the baby shower and the set up, you know, since we haven't seen him much since he and Cora have been back in town, and I, I uh, I wanted to t-tell you but I didn't uhm, I didn't know what to say." He looks down at the manual in his lap, looks at the ground coyly, and moves the misplaced leg into the right hole. He sighs and pushes the misshapen crib away from his sight. Allison chuckles and takes the manual and the misshapen crib and begins putting it together deftly.

"I can tell him to leave, if you're uncomfortable." Scott offers, but Stiles can hear the skip in his heartbeat.

Stiles takes a bigger gulp of his lemonade and goes to greet Derek and Cora at the front door. Chris lets them in and gives Stiles a cautionary look. Stiles smiles brightly and even if Derek stands a little more rigidly at the sight of him, Stiles tries not to be disappointed. He waits for Cora to come over to his side and give him a hug, then he motions for the siblings to follow him up the stairs.

John and Melissa watch the exchange like hawks from the couch, smiling as Derek and Cora pass them. Chris joins them a few seconds later, holding a beer that looks half empty.

"Do you think Derek will finally get his head out of his ass?" John asks in a muffled whisper.

Melissa giggles. "They can still hear you, honey."

"Goddamnit." John mutters, catching Stiles eye before he rounds the corner into the nursery. Chris laughs half-heartedly, tossing back his beer in an effort to drown out his laughter.

When they get back into the nursery, Danny shakes Derek's hand in greeting. "Good to have you back, man." He says, and his teeth show through his smile.

Derek nods stiffly and lets go of his hand. Isaac stands and gives him a short hug, smiling and offering up a cold beer. Derek takes it, makes his way to Scott and nods, extending his hand. Scott doesn't say much, just smiles and glances over at Allison.

Derek's eyes twinkle in the sunlight when he sees Allison, and Stiles has to look away. He's still beautiful, and it hurts just the slightest bit to be this close to him and this far away in the same instance. Cora stands beside Stiles and watches him closely, nudging him. Stiles sighs and looks at her with a cocked brow. "You good?" She asks.

Allison is sitting in a rocking chair in the corner with the crib manual in her lap when Derek approaches her. He gently thrusts a small present into her out stretched hands and asks how she's doing in a soft voice. "Dandy," she answers lightheartedly, then laughs and tears into the present.

Stiles smirks, and asks if anyone wants something to drink. Isaac asks for another beer, along with Danny. Cora nods towards his glass and Stiles heads back down the stairs to the kitchen.

John, Melissa and Chris watch the ridged set of his shoulders and whisper behind their hands about _possibilities_ and _relationship drama_ and _would you go back to him if he just up and left you like that?_ Chris shushes the other two adults and sips from his beer leisurely.

Stiles wants to say something, but decides not to waste his breath on it. He pours another glass of lemonade for himself, and fills another cup up for Cora. He ducks down into the fridge and grabs two beers from Isaac and Danny, then thinks about why the two of them would be drinking beer to begin with. It's not like he could get drunk, and beer tastes awful to begin with.

Chris meets him in the kitchen, gives him a nod in greeting and leans against the counter. Stiles stares back at him, waiting.

"So Derek," Chris says, "he was your…?" He leaves the question open, waiting for the answer he's looking for.

Stiles shrugs, sighs and figures this was bound to happen eventually. "I don't know what he was, dude. I couldn't even give you a straight answer. I was his mate, but I was human, now I'm not and I guess we're…" He paused for a moment, thinking, "I guess we're nothing."

The pit of his stomach aches, feels empty and hallow. Stiles drinks more lemonade, hoping that'll fill the void.

Chris nods, looks down at his hands, and smirks. "Allison's having a baby." He says, and Stiles feels a sense of warmth come over him.

"Yeah, I know, man. Congrats on being a uh, you know, grampa." He offers his hand to the grown man and smiles. "I mean, for being a hunter with a werewolf baby on the way? You've grown. And that's kinda awesome."

Chris smirks and eyes him suspiciously, but shakes his hand anyways. "Thank you for taking care of them both." He whispers softly, and Stiles almost misses it because of the scent coming from the doorway. It over takes his senses in one fell swoop, making his knees weak. Derek is in the doorway, holding two empty glasses and a third under his arm.

Derek shifts uncomfortably at the sight of Chris and Stiles together, feeling like his world is coming apart at the seams.

Stiles pulls his hand away too quickly and frowns at Derek in the doorway. Chris looks at him for a long minute before leaving. "Derek," he greets at the threshold. Chris nods back at Stiles as he departs his own kitchen, joining Melissa and John on the couch to finish the game that's currently on.

John hoots minutes later as his team scores and Melissa boos in contrast. It's nice his dad has found someone to challenge him.

Derek bites his lip hard and walks past Stiles to the fridge. Stiles tries not to be disappointed even as Derek's scent changes to that similar to despair.

"How was your trip?" Stiles asks softly. It's a start, even if it's small.

Derek pauses with his head in the fridge. He sighs, "It was good. Cora introduced me to the people who took care of her before she came back here."

"That's nice," Stiles says, then the awkward silence eats up the rest of his nerves.

Derek pops his head back out of the fridge and closes it with his hands clasped around three full cups of lemonade. He smells relieves, if a little anxious. "Yeah, it's a pack outside of Wyoming. Not too big, but it's nice. She left when the Alpha pack came and killed the old Alpha." Derek shrugs, "they went through the same mess we did. The old Alpha's son, Darren, is the pack's Alpha now. He likes Cora."

Stiles chokes and laughs loudly, his throat tight and his eyes sting. His chest aches in a way it hadn't in a while now. Derek smiles easily, it almost hurts worse that when Scott told Stiles he'd left town without so much as a goodbye.

Stiles covers his mouth when his hysterical laughter doesn't subside. "Doesn't he know the Hale's are heartbreakers?" He laughs again, the sound bursting forth from his chest in angry folds.

That probably wasn't the best thing to say.

Derek's smile fades. He takes the three cups he came down with, grabs Cora's glass from the counter and the two beers for Isaac and Danny, offers Stiles' an apologetic smiles, and leaves the kitchen. He smells angry and sad, the scent of leaves and sunlight leaching from his bones and Stiles crumbles to the linoleum floor.

* * *

Stiles doesn't go back upstairs. Instead he heads home, complaining of a headache. He shoots Allison a text with an apology.

"Werewolves don't get headaches, but I'll let it slide this time." Chris smiles tightly, tips his beer in Stiles' direction and waves goodbye.

* * *

He goes home and sleeps. He gets a call in the middle of the night from Isaac saying Allison went into labor at ten and there are complications. Scott needs him.

Stiles hops in the Jeep and drives to the hospital as fast as he can. He can't see past the rain, and when did it start raining anyways? His windshield wipers screech as they try to wipe away the rain, but to no avail.

A car swerves in front of the Jeep, coming right for him. Stiles turns the wheel hard, narrowly avoiding a head on collision. He goes off the side of the road and dives nose first into a steep bank. The Jeep smacks into a tree and Stiles blacks out after he head slams against the steering wheel.


	3. The End and Everything In Between

**The Wilted Ones  
**_The End and Everything In Between_

**_"And in the end, we were all just humans... Drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness."  
_**_-F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

"Stiles? Stiles!"

He gets a smack to the face and a quiet whimper meets his ears. "Come on baby, wake up." The voice pleads. It smells like sunshine, but lighting strikes and thunder rolls somewhere off to the side and sunshine doesn't seem feasible at this present moment. The scent of ozone and rain cause him to scrunch up his nose as the scent burns it's way up his sinuses.

"Come on, open your eyes." It's Derek, Stiles' realizes, and his chest swells. He's got his hands all over Stiles' face and they're warm and pleasant and they smell like sunbaked rocks and rain and grass. "Stiles," he calls again, and it's Derek who is whimpering.

Stiles opens one eye and it still feels like his head is about to split open. Derek releases a breath and it flows over Stiles face like a wave of relief. "Hey," Stiles greets, slumping forward. Derek catches him and helps him extract himself from his Jeep.

His leg aches from a healed fracture and he pries a piece of metal from his arm, watches the blood that seeps from the wound flow down his arm as the skin knits itself back together. The side of his face is still healing, freckled with drops of blood that flake off with a brush of his hand.

Derek offers him his coat, but Stiles refuses, pushes it back into Derek's chest. "Let's not do that," Stiles pleads, and proceeds to climb up the bank he'd apparently crashed down.

Derek's at his side, a worried look on his face and a frown on his lips. They don't speak as they walk to Derek's car and Stiles stand uncertainly at the passenger door. Derek waits by his side, before he reaches over and opens the door and watches as Stiles slides in uncomfortably. They ride in silence for a majority of the way to the hospital.

"How long was I out?" Stiles asks quietly, rubbing his temple. Chris is a liar, werewolves so do get headaches.

Derek is quiet for a while. "Isaac called you at midnight. It's three in the morning. When you didn't show up, they went out looking for you." He clears his throat. "I found you, and called the others. Melissa wants to take a look at you."

"How, uh, how did you find me?" Stiles asks.

Derek goes rigid, then raps his nose. He doesn't have to say anything for Stiles to know he's lying, but he accepts the lie and they ride to the hospital in silence. His shoulder tingles and Stiles smiles into his hands.

* * *

Allison gives birth to a daughter. She's eight pounds, four ounces, and twenty two inches long. Scott passed out from all the blood and babies popping out of vaginas, so Stiles is the first person to hold her after Chris.

They name her Victoria, and Chris smiles weakly.

Derek stands towards the back of the recovery room. He leaves when no one is watching.

* * *

Victoria is three years old when the pack next sees Derek and Cora. Rumor had it the two went back to Wyoming and stayed with the pack there. Cora married the Alpha from her old pack, Darren, and had a kid not too many months ago. They came back home to visit and introduce Cora's husband and son and Scott offered them a place to stay for their visit.

"We wanna move back home," Cora says after a long stretch of silence, "I want my son to grow up here."

"But your family..." Allison begins, then closes her mouth and looks away.

Derek sighs. "Our family died here, yes, but Beacon Hills isn't an awful place to grow up. It's actually a great place," he gets a far off look in his eyes and Scott smiles fondly, "we wanted to make sure it was okay to move back here with Scott before we just came back." He nods at Scott, "you are still the acting Alpha of Beacon Hills."

Scott laughs, patting Derek on the shoulder. "Beacon Hills was your home before it was mine. Feel free to come and go as you like. Let me know if you need help rebuilding. And stay here for the time being." He gestures to the house and shrugs. "It's big enough, thanks to Chris."

Victoria comes out to meet them a few minutes later and snarls when her eyes land on Derek. She bares her teeth, her eyes flashing gold, and she refuses to leave Allison's side. Allison scolds her quietly, and Victoria whines and protests.

Derek gives her a confused look and the baby in Cora's arms gurgles at the noise.

Scott tells her it's alright, laughs and says; "Derek's an old friend Vic, come say hello."

She creeps over begrudgingly and Allison laughs, tells her to stop it and be nice, even when she snarls and refuses to look at Derek for more than a second. "His pictures make Uncle Stiles smell sad." She glares up at him defiantly and Derek looks taken aback and wounded. He crouches down to her leaves, offers her his hand in a gesture of peace.

She glares at it, pushes his hand away and says softly; "I don't like you."

"Victoria!" Allison scolds, grabs her by the hand and crouches down to her leave, whispering angrily about respecting your elders and your guests.

Stiles walks into the house after that, a smile plastered on his face. He's unaware of the visitors Scott has or what had just happened. He stops in the doorway, apologizes for barging in, and offers Derek a small, uncertain smile in greeting. He fidgets for a moment before his eyes land on Victoria and Allison in the center of the room. He does smell sad, like Victoria had pointed out. Derek looks away, his stomach roiling with guilt.

Stiles' eyes blow wide as he greets Cora and coos at the baby in her arms, asking for a name. "Sam," she says, "not Samuel, just Sam." Stiles laughs, wholeheartedly.

"Sam's a good name." He doesn't ask to hold the baby. Derek and Cora understand. They're unfamiliar pack now, and mixing scents just yet might confuse the children. Sam's eyes flash gold and so do Stiles'.

Scott begs for Victoria to be nice, but she's defiant and growls lowly. Her eyes are glued to Stiles lovingly, though she seems impatient to get to him., She glares at Derek every time her eyes land on him. Derek shifts uncomfortably as he stands beside Cora. He never thought a child would make him feel so small.

Stiles laughs lowly at his expense, offering a small, nervous smile. "She's definitely at least half as terrifying as Allison's mom was, just a tinier version."

A man follows in, calling for Stiles' help, and Derek is blown away. He's tall, blonde haired and blue eyed and when he smiles, his cheeks have a set of dimples that would make God jealous and laugh lines frame his lips.

Scott sighs when Victoria fidgets and asks to go with Stiles and Tanner. Allison glances at Stiles and asks him to talk to her about her manners in a whisper so low Derek had to strain to hear her.

Stiles nods and swoops Victoria up in his arms as he leaves to grab the groceries out of the car with the mystery man, presumably Tanner. Victoria gurgles and caws as Stiles sits her on his shoulders and begins to speak about being nice, even if you don't like someone.

"But he makes you sad!" Victoria cries, and Stiles growls lowly. Victoria is quiet after that, and listens to the low, gravely talk that Stiles manages and Tanner know nothing of it. Tanner glances at Derek curiously after Victoria's outburst and then scowls at Stiles back. "Really?" Tanner puts his hands on his hips and glares at Stiles. The beta rolls his eyes and mouths the word; "later."

"We don't talk about Derek in front of Tanner, understand Victoria?" He asks when the blonde man stalks away, and the little girl whimpers a small; "yes."

Scott sighs, apologies for his daughter and asks if the two Hales want to see their rooms. Derek and Cora say they have a room at a motel for the night already and they'll be back tomorrow morning. They smile as they leave.

Stiles watches Derek go and smells the air change with him. He no longer smells like sunshine.

* * *

Sam loves Victoria. He's six and a half when he tells her so. Victoria is nine, ("nine and a half!" She cries) and she shoves dirt in his face and laughs when he starts to cry.

Stiles swoops in on her, makes her apologize and bring him a cup of water and help him clean himself up.

She begs Stiles not to make her do it, but he tells her he wouldn't love her anymore if she didn't start acting nicer to Sam.

She gets water and a wet rag and even brings little Sam a piece of candy she saved in her pocket for later. "I'm sorry," she whispers in a small, frail voice, and plants a kiss on the side of Sam's face. Sam smiles up at her with his red eyes and blushes.

Derek watches from the porch as Tanner, the man from six years ago, come up beside Stiles with a glass of lemonade and a half-hearted smile. "We should have kids," he says.

Stiles laughs and kisses him.

Derek goes upstairs and turns on his shower as he sinks down to the floor and the water feels like acid on his skin as it pelts him. He feels bruised. His heart breaks into pieces that float down the drain.

They announce their wedding two days later.

Stiles stares straight at Derek that night and he feels like pieces of him are crumbling at the brown eyed mans feet. Stiles fidgets with his fingers at his chest, twisting and turning the engagement ring that seems also too big for his slender hand.

John comes over to Derek's side and offers him a beer. "His mother left me three times before we finally got married." He offers, a small smile on his lips. "Go talk to Stiles. He needs a friend."

Derek doesn't say anything for a long time. John clears his throat and makes to get up and walk away, but Derek stops him with a tight grip on his forearm. "I love him." He whispers, and it hurts. It hurts so much to say aloud.

Stiles hasn't looked away from Derek all night. He's waiting. But Derek can't move.

John nods. "I know, son." He pats Derek on the shoulder and leaves his beer in the Alpha's capable hands.

* * *

Tanner leaves Stiles at the alter.

Scott is there to comfort him as he cries in his dressing room. Derek can hear his wolf howling in pain all the way down the halls of the church, distorting his human wails of anguish.

He knocked softly at the door and John answers, looking old and tired. He opens the door wider and lets Derek in as he walks out with a sigh that speaks of a stronger man. Stiles has thrown almost everything to the ground and smashed everything that was glass. His tux has claw marks around the collar from him trying to rip it all off in a fit of desperation before Scott finally untied his bow and pulled the buttons away from his skin.

Stiles' bare chest is speckled red with angry patches of fevered skin and his cheeks are tear stained and raw.

Derek brings him a single rose and offers him a tissue with a soft smile. He opens his mouth to speak but stops short.

Stiles gives him a murderous look and slaps him across the face so fast his actions are but a flurry of motions. The "once-was" groom's hand burns and his eyes flare molten gold. "This is all _your fault_!" The beta roars.

Stiles leaves the church and he packs his bags and leave Beacon Hills.

Victoria cries for days. Derek feels his heart shatter completely as the hand print across his face fades into nothing more than a tingling, prickling sensation.

John pats his shoulder when Derek stands in front of Stiles' empty room back at the pack house. "He'll come home soon, son. Don't worry." The father says.

Derek whimpers and falls to his knees and sobs into his hands. John stands beside the wolf and rubs soothing circles into the mans neck.

* * *

Stiles comes back a few weeks later with a tan and a softer, tired smile. He smells like exotic plants and flowers and sand. He says he took his honeymoon ticket and exchanged Tanner's for an extra long stay at the resort in Bora Bora.

Derek offers to help Stiles unpack when he gets home as a sign of peace, and Stiles reluctantly smiles and hands him two fully packed luggage bags and carries one more large bag up the stairs to his room.

Derek unzips both bags and brings the hamper over to his side, between the two men, and begins silently throwing the dirty clothes into the hamper for washing.

His clothes smell like alcohol and salt water. Derek gives him a curious look when he finds a note with his name on it, written on hotel stationary, buried at the bottom of the suitcase under the piles of clothes. It's stained with different colored liquids and grains of sand cling to the paper. It's crumpled and yellowed and Stiles snatches the note away and throws it in the trash. "Moment of weakness," he explains and leaves the room as Victoria calls for him frantically from down stairs.

Derek grabs the note from the trash and stuffs it in his back pocket when Stiles rounds the corner and is out of sight.

"I saw your car outside," Victoria pants, throwing down her backpack at the door as Allison leans against the doorframe and crosses her arms over her chest smugly.

"She missed you," the girl's mother offers solemnly. She raises her brow and motions at his skin. "That tan looks nice on you."

Stiles smirks and curls around Victoria in a protective ball. He runs his hand through her hair. "I missed you so much, Vic." He muses, his face pressed into her brown curls, taking in her scent.

Victoria groans, whimpers, and clutches the back of Stiles shirt in her tiny fists. "I smelled you when you came back, why did you leave? Do you not love me anymore? Did I do something bad? Is it because Uncle Tanner made you sad? Did Uncle Derek made you sad again? Is it because of daddy?" Her eyes grow wide and watery and she clings to Stiles neck tighter than a necklace.

Stiles sighs and shushes her softly, rubbing circles into her back as she sobs openly. Scott walks in the door and rolls his eyes at his daughter. "I should've gone to more baby appointments," he jokes, and Stiles scoffs.

He extracts Victoria from around his neck and brings the small girl upstairs. Stiles brought her back all kinds of trinkets and chocolates and jars of seashells and apologizes for leaving without saying goodbye.

"Never do it again." She makes him swear on it. He smiles sadly at her, his eyes glancing over at Derek as he enters the room before he focuses back in on Victoria again. He flashes gold eyes at her and she smiles with ruby red cheeks and a toothy grin.

"I'll never leave you again, pretty girl." He promises. There sincerity is evident in his words.

Derek wishes words like those were aimed at him, but catches his thoughts and clutches the note in his pocket for dear life.

* * *

The note is simple. Derek reads it days later. It reads:

_Dear Derek,_  
_I wish you were here tonight._

Derek clutches the note in his hands and cries openly on the porch. Stiles runs outside and asks him what's wrong, worry lacing his words before his eyes land on the note in the Alpha's grip. Derek launches himself at Stiles and hugs him and tells him he's sorry for everything.

Stiles is rigid in his arms, his hands fists at his sides. He pushes Derek away and asks for some time. His eyes are watery and he smells angry.

Derek asks him to come back. He begs Stiles to stay. He tells Stiles he loves him.

Stiles says no. "Please, Derek..." He begs, and he turns away.

He leaves the pack house and spends the night at Erica and Boyd's.

* * *

Erica drags Stiles back to Scott's two days later and pushes him at Derek. Stiles stumbles and catches himself before he smashes into Derek's chest. He apologizes and looks away, gingerly rubbing his arm in an attempt to keep his limbs to himself.

Erica huffs and gets back in her car and drives away. Boyd waves from the passenger seat.

Derek and Stiles shift uncomfortably together on the porch. Derek tries to speak first but Stiles interrupts him.

"I love you," the words tumble out like fireflies and stun Derek into silence. "I'm in love with you," Stiles corrects, "it's why Tanner left." He scuffs his feet at nothing, dances away from Derek's touch when the Alpha reaches out to him and holds out his hands to stop the man from approaching further. "I told him the day of the wedding." He smiles softly, scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. "His mother said she always knew I wasn't completely in love with her son. She said she still loved me anyways." He shrugged again and twisted his fingers in odd angles at his chest. "She gave me the honeymoon tickets and told me to go be happy and pick myself up again." Stiles laughs without humor and angrily wipes away at the burning sensation at the corner of his eyes.

"But I can't do this again." He says finally, motioning between the two of them, "I can't keep hurting over you like this." He says it firmly, as if he's been practicing it for years. He probably had, Derek concedes. "Either you have me or you don't. There is no more in between, Derek."

Derek's throat feels dry. "Mine," he whispers quickly, and Stiles lips blossom into the most beautiful smile Derek has ever seen. "You're mine." His wolf preens for the first time in years and Derek feels it unfurl in his heart.

Derek brings Stiles into a kiss, giving him time to get used to the feel of them this close again. He moves his mouth slowly, softly, memorizing every curve of Stiles lips as they move against each other dryly.

A small voice from inside the house screeches; "ew!" Before Allison and Scott shush it, pulling the small girl away from the window.

Stiles smiles against Derek's lip. "Victoria knows," he muses with a chuckle that resonates within Derek's bones.

"She's going to kill me, isn't she?" Derek grins and Stiles nods in all probability before slotting their lips together once more.

Stiles shoulder begins to tingle again. Derek grins.

* * *

Sam is ten when he asks Victoria to marry him. She agrees. She's thirteen and she smells like hormones and longing and anger.

Stiles sighs and rolls his eyes, and Scott groans. "Having a daughter is awful," he confesses.

Stiles punches Scott in the arm. "She's awesome. Don't you pick on my little Vic." Scott grumbles and sips from a beer can on the porch. Sam and Victoria sit together on a bench swing under a tall tree in the front yard in complete silence.

"How'd they do this past full moon?" Stiles asks.

"Victoria had a little more trouble keeping the shift under control this time around. Cora says it's because of her body changing and all the hormones and girl stuff and just ew." Scott sighs, "Cora says she needs to find an anchor soon or she'll shift and lose control."

Stiles sighs, feeling like a hot poker is twisting into his stomach. "So how about Sam?" He tries, his throat tight. It hurts to know Victoria is struggling and neither he nor Scott can do anything to change it.

Scott groans, "Cora says Victoria is his anchor. He's doing just fine apparently." Scott almost sounds bitter, but then he sighs and leans back against the porch, and all the tension leaves his body. Scott closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

Stiles laughs softly at his friends expense and bumps their shoulders together. "Derek and I are moving out. We found a place."

"Finally," Scott groans, cracking an eye open to watch his friend sme. "I'm tired of listening to you two have sex."

Stiles scoffs. "Whatever, like listening to you and Allison is some joy."

* * *

Derek paints the house cream colors. It makes it look more open and airy and welcoming. Victoria scowls when she enters the freshly painted house, holding her nose as her eyes water. "It smells in here."

Sam picks a flower outside the house and hands it to Victoria silently. Her eyes soften as she takes it from him and smells it. Her faces turns red as she walks away, shoving Sam away from her. He frowns sadly, discouraged, and Stiles offers him his hand. Sam takes it and follows him up a flight of stairs sadly, dragging his feet the whole way. There's a room to the left of the stair case, painted baby blue and cream. "It's your room," Stiles says softly, and Sam perks up, "for whenever you wanna come stay the night here. Uncle Derek painted it for you and we're getting your bed in a few days." Stiles explains and Sam's face brightens up, his big green eyes full of excitement.

"I love it," he says softly, and Cora comes up behind her son and pushes him inside the room so she can look around too. She smiles softly, sadly, curling in on herself, and Stiles gives her a hug.

"Your room is next door, for you know, your use." He says lowly, and Sam looks too interested in his wide room to pay attention to the conversation. "I know since the divorce things have been tough for you and Sam, and I know Darren's pack has taken him back in, so Derek wanted to ask you two to come stay with us until you're back on your feet, he just, you know, sucks with words."

Cora's eyes shine with unshed tears and she quickly wipes them away and punches Stiles in the arm. "Shut up and go get my bag out of the trunk." She tosses him her car keys and turns away, crouching and grabbing Sam up in her arms.

Sam begins to protest and whine, but Cora's shoulders begin to shake and Stiles closes the door behind him quietly.

When he turns around, Victoria is standing at the top of the stairs, her foot tapping irritated as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Where's my room?" She demands, and Stiles frowns at her.

Her eyes flash gold and her shoulders drop submissively. "Do I get a room too?" She asks softer, her hands fidgeting at her chest nervously. She developed the habit from Stiles, Derek had once pointed out.

Stiles kneels in front of her, grasps her hands in his gently. "Of course Vic," he says, "but you have to do something for me." He pats her chest, above her heart and frowns. "You have to find an anchor before the next full moon, then you can see your room."

Her frown mirrors his, hurt etched across her face like a scar. "I-I don't know how," she stutters, her lips pulled down at the corners. "Dad has mom, you and Derek have each other, Cora has Sam since Darren left, but I don't have anyone." She hiccups and looks away. She was always too strong for tears. She blinks furiously and Stiles smiles in defeat.

"Your anchor doesn't always have to be a person, Vic. Do you know who Sam's anchor is?" He asks, and Victoria shakes her head solemnly.

"It's you." Stiles gives her a soft nudge and stands. Victoria grins and looks away again, let's go of Stiles' hands and goes to knock on Sam's door and apologize for her behavior.

* * *

Victoria finds an anchor. It's within her family. It's in John and Melissa's way of challenging each other's sports teams, it's in Derek's quiet demeanor over breakfast, the love for her mother and father and the love they have for each other, her adoration for Stiles, her grandfathers gun collection, in the pictures of the Victoria she never met, in Cora's cooking and in Sam's rare smile.

Stiles shows her the room Derek painted peach with the white dressers and the walk in closet with the mermaid lamp by the bed.

She doesn't go home for two weeks.

* * *

Derek is warm against Stiles side the next night when he wakes up from a nightmare. It's been years, but the scar at his neck still aches sometimes. The nightmare of Matt still haunts him. He rubs the healed wound cautiously before a hand slides into his and pulls him back into reality.

"Let it go," Derek breathes sleepily against his back.

Stiles does.

* * *

Years pass. The scar aches less, the paint chips, the flowers die, but the scent of sunshine and sun baked rocks and rain and leaves never leave his nose or his house entirely.

The houses foundation stays, but the grass died and regrows in patches. Nothing's perfect. Their mail box gets knocked over one year by a bunch of rowdy teenagers and Stiles almost gets angry, but then he goes and buys a new one and that's that.

John has a minor heart attack despite Melissa's best efforts to keep him healthy, and Stiles suffers his first panic attack since college. John promises he'll eat better and exercise more, but the grey hair at his scalp beg to differ. He resigns as Sheriff and he and Melissa retire a few years later and buy a beach house by the coast. They sell the houses they bought for their children to grow up in and move West.

Cora eventually moves out of the Stilinski-Hale house and buys a house not too far from Derek and Stiles. She raises Sam the best she can by herself, but Darren doesn't make it easy on her. He stops by every now and again, claiming rights over Sam as his Alpha, until Sam declares Derek his Alpha and Derek doesn't back down from Darren. No one hurts his nephew or his little sister. Darren sends a check every month and a card every birthday, but that's it after a few years. He stops calling, he stops coming by, he stops writing. Rumor has it he remarried.

Cora doesn't complain. She has a good job and Sam goes to college and meets a girl.

Allison and Scott grow old together, just like Stiles and Derek. They spend every weekend at each other's houses and talk and play and laugh and cry. They go on vacations as a group and things are good, for once.

Erica and Boyd move away and join another pack. They send emails and updates.

Danny goes to live in Hawaii with his parents. Isaac goes with him. They don't call anymore.

Victoria goes to college and meets a boy.

Sam brings his girlfriend home the first semester after college and she takes one look at Victoria and apologizes and leaves and never comes back. Same goes for Victoria's boyfriend. "The chemistry there is undeniable," the boy tries to explain to Victoria, but she grabs a flower pot off the porch and launches it at him. He doesn't come back either.

Sam sits beside Victoria on the porch and she cries into his broad chest.

"They're all grown up," Stiles says one afternoon, and Allison grins.

"I feel old," she says, and the crows feet at the corner of her eyes smile at him.

"You and me both." Derek agrees as he rests the back of his arm over his eyes. Scott laughs at them all.

"I feel as spry as a spring chicken. The kids are gone off to college, we have a whole house to ourselves, we should be partying it up." He has grey hair sprouting at his temple. They all do.

Stiles punches his friend's shoulder and Allison and Derek groan in unison. "Go to hell, Scott." Derek laughs.

* * *

Sam and Victoria elope two months after they graduate college.

"Called it!" Chris shouts from the front room. No one is upset. No one is surprised.

* * *

They name the baby Genim.

John crows with laughter so loud he startles the baby into a fit of hiccups, and he doesn't even apologize. Stiles groans. "He'll hate you both." But his heart swells.

Victoria kisses him on the cheek with a smile and rosy cheeks as she passes her baby off to him. "Thank you for everything," she whispers, and Stiles is the first one to hold the baby.

Sam grins quietly and Cora wipes away a stray tear that slipped past her eye and pretends like it was never there to begin with.

Derek's the only one that sees the tears slip past Stiles chin.

* * *

"Do you ever wish we'd had kids?" Derek asks one afternoon. They're in their late forties, and there's still time, but John is old and frail from his second heart attack, and Melissa is having a hard time breathing. Chris is in a home with slight on-sets of Dementia and it's tearing Allison apart.

Stiles shakes his head. "Naw, I'm sure if I'd stayed human I would've died young. I wouldn't have wanted that for our kids or you."

Derek frowns at that answer.

"Do you want kids?" Stiles asks hesitantly and Derek shrugs. He looks into the fading sunlight and Stiles can see the longing in his eyes.

"It would have been nice." He answers honestly, and it's a raw blow. "I'd have liked to have raised a kid with you."

Stiles calls a surrogacy program the next day and sets up an appointment.

* * *

The baby is a Stilinski-Hale and dies a few days after birth.

Stiles cries for hours. Derek leaves the house and runs in the forest and doesn't come back until the sun is down and he can no longer hear Stiles' sobbing. When he climbs up the stairs to their room with tired legs and aching muscles, Stiles is clutching the picture of Derek holding the baby for the first time to his chest and the pillow is stained with his tears, even as he sleeps.

They're too old to have children anyways.

Derek buys a puppy from the pound. He names him after the baby. Stiles cries harder but eventually turns the nursery into a giant puppy playground, until that puppy becomes a dog, then the room is filled with boxes and becomes storage space.

The cribs it pushed to the back of the attic and is never seen again.

* * *

John dies after his third heart attack and Chris passes away in his sleep one night at the home. Melissa lives on, but quietly, in her little beach house by the sea.

Scott and Stiles visit her every weekend now, and Allison and Derek come up once a month with them. Eventually they all start to pile into one car and just spend the whole weekend there by the beach with the last remaining parent, sprawled out across her living room floor and patio and spare bedroom.

"You don't have to worry about me," Melissa urges one weekend, and Stiles and Scott scoff in unison. She shakes her head at them and sighs, "I'll be okay." She says, and Stiles sees right through her lie. They can hear the murmur in her heart and Melissa slaps them both on the back of the head. "Stop it," she warns venomously, "I know what you two are doing." And she does.

But she's all they have left.

* * *

Melissa goes after seven more years, but not how they expected.

"Skydiving accident, can you believe it?" Stiles scoffs at her funeral, and even though they're all puffy eyed and angry, they all laugh. They cause a disruption in the church and the two couples have to leave to catch their breath.

They laugh until they're crying again outside the church, and then they laugh some more. Derek has to sit to catch his breath and Stiles' face is so red he could make a tomato jealous. Scott and Allison sob into each other until they're wheezing.

When they finally catch their breath, Allison has to stop to wipe her finger under her eyes to make sure her mascara isn't running too bad. They re-enter the church and bury Melissa beside John and Claudia, and Chris and Victoria.

* * *

"I love you." Stiles says after fifty three years together.

"Stiles." Derek warns haughtily. He does this every night. They're old and it's been a good, long life. Stiles accepts this now.

The man grins tiredly, eyes half lidded with heavy sleep and lips lax in exhaustion. It's been a long day. "Shush, Sourwolf." He sighs into his mates arm, glancing lazily at the calloused fingers intertwined with his. "Just tell me you love me."

"Go to sleep." Derek supplies, his voice uncharacteristically softer. "And I love you." He presses a soft kiss to Stiles lips and sighs against his skin.

Stiles does as he's told with a parting, happy smile, his eyes crying in relief as they finally slide shut.

Derek turns off his bedside lamp and cuddles into Stiles' side. He's warm at his mates back, and he smells like sunshine. The rain outside only adds to the smell of Derek in their house.

"I'm happy," Stiles sighs, and Derek snorts abruptly. "Me too," the Alpha says, and chuckles lightly. Stiles grins.

"I love you," Stiles says again, this time softer.

"I love you," Derek echoes, his breath a ghost against Stiles neck. The scar doesn't ache anymore.

He falls asleep easily that night, listening to the rain slide down his window and Derek's deep, rumbling breathes. And somewhere, deep in his sleep, Stiles dreams of a pair of wolves and a nameless child, running through a forest together and the world erases behind them.


End file.
